


this is ten different kinds of illegal

by ClassyFangirl



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe- No kaiju, Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Sex for Goods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyFangirl/pseuds/ClassyFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal is a Boston mobster. Newt is a seventeen-year-old student at MIT. They hit it off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is ten different kinds of illegal

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, another prompt fill! Written for an anonymous prompter on tumblr. Everything I know about the Boston mob scene comes from The Departed and from growing up not far from the city, so I sincerely doubt my own accuracy.

Boston’s always been a good gang town, even after Bulger went on the run, and Hannibal’s looking to make a switch to a more multicultural environment. He’s no Irishman, and with a fake name like Chau, nobody expects him to be, which has been tricky to deal with. Goddamn Southie pricks. But Hannibal’s a man of vision, and Boston is ripe with opportunities for a man willing to invest his time and money.

One of these opportunities turns out to be Newton Geiszler.

It’s a rainy day in November when Hannibal’s chauffeur nearly runs over a teenager running across the street.

“Jesus!” Hannibal snaps when the limo brakes suddenly. “The hell was that?”

“Sorry, sir- there’s this kid in the road-”

There’s a heavy rapping against the limousine window. “Hey!” a voice yells, muffled by the thick (bullet-proof, thank you) glass. “Watch where you’re driving, asshole! You think just ‘cause you’re all rich you can go running people over?”

Hannibal rolls his window down and glares over the tops of his sunglasses. The kid- a short, baby-faced guy, definitely in his teens, with thick glasses and too-tight jeans -frowns right back at him, either brave or too stupid to be intimidated. Even if it’s the latter, Hannibal’s pretty impressed- his angry look has made hardened criminals piss their goddamn pants. “You talkin’ to me, kid?”

The kid snorts and adjusts his glasses. “Yeah, De Niro- you and your shitty fucking driver. The light was red, dickbag! I could’ve sued if you hit me!”

Hannibal laughs. “Yeah? And what would’ve happened when you lost? You gonna use your college fund to pay your lawyer?”

The kid grins and flips him off. Yeah, definitely stupid, but almost charmingly so. “Kiss my ass and my MIT scholarship, dick.”

“You? _You’ve_ got an MIT scholarship? What are you, fourteen?”

“ _Seventeen,_ ” the kid says. “Added go-fuck-yourself- I start grad school next semester. Yeah, man!” he snaps, pointing at Hannibal’s driver. “Regretting running that red light _now_?”

All right, Hannibal’s interested. “Okay, boy genius,” he says. “What’s a smart kid like you doing in a shitty neighborhood like this?”

The kid huffs. “None of your business.”

Hannibal lowers his sunglasses, lets the kid get a good look at the scar over his eye. When that doesn’t scare an answer out of him, Hannibal chuckles. “ _Now_ you don’t feel like talking? Huh. Who knew. Fine, then- at least let me give you a ride to wherever you gotta get to. How’s that sound?”

Common sense seems to be making a return. The kid starts backing up slowly. “ _Yeaaah,_ I’m probably gonna pass- y’know, stranger danger, all that fun stuff. One minute you’re showing me your pet bunny, then before you know it, I’m locked in a truck headed for Mexico.”

“You watched some shitty after-school specials when you were little, didn’t you?” Hannibal shakes his head and waves the kid off. “Fine, fine. Be that way. But who knows- maybe I’ll see you around, kid.”

He’s rolling the window back up when the kid says, “Newt.”

Hannibal pauses. “‘Scuse me?”

“My, uh...” The kid clears his throat and stands up a little straighter. “My name’s Newt.”

Hannibal grins and nods. “Newt. Gotcha. Catch ya later, Newt.”

It’s after this that things get interesting.

 

ooo

 

He catches the kid skulking around the same neighborhood not two weeks later. Hannibal’s walking this time, armed guards not far behind. He’s pretty sure he’s just successfully muscled some of the Providence Italians out of his new territory, and he’s in an awfully good mood that’s only improved by the sight of the kid. Newt is bundled up in a thick jacket, his hands shoved in his pockets while he leans against a wall, glaring at the sidewalk. He looks up excitedly when Hannibal approaches, like a puppy about to get a treat, but his face falls when he sees Hannibal’s apparently not who he was expecting. “Oh,” Newt says. “It’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me. What, you’re not waitin’ around just for me, boy genius?”

“I have my own reasons for being here.” Newt takes his hands out of his pockets to rub them together fiercely. It’s a cold damn day- middle of November in Boston isn’t a great time to be outdoors. “Why, were you looking for me? Did I strike your mobster fancy?”

Hannibal’s hand goes to his knife- people, even his fellow mobsters, don’t usually speak the word out loud. Not even cops do that- only people who are liable to go informing the cops. But Newt just laughs. “Oh, come on- like you could be anything else. You’re not even _subtle_ , man, it’s like- it’s like if Whitey went around waving a gun and yelling ‘I’m a gangster!’”

Hannibal snorts and unhands his knife. “Yeah? You know a lot about gangsters, kid?”

Newt shrugs and waves a hand flippantly. “I go to MIT, not UMass. Everything I know I learned from _The Departed_.”

That gets a laugh from Hannibal. Yeah, he likes this kid a lot. “What _are_ you waiting for, then?”

“Weed guy. My weed guy- he was supposed to meet me here, like, fifteen minutes ago, but _nooo_ , apparently he’s busy- I don’t know, snorting coke off his girlfriend or something.” Newt sighs and tugs his coat tighter around himself. “Asshole.”

“Weed?” Hannibal laughs. “That’s all? Shit, kid, you could take a short walk with me and I’d get you way better stuff- and I bet for cheaper than your street prick is charging you.”

Newt stares at him, eyebrows raised. “Is that, like, a hypothetical or an actual offer?”

Hannibal grins. “Could easily be a damn fine business deal.”

Newt bites his lower lip and shrugs again. “See, uh, trouble is, I don’t- I don’t pay Trevor in cash, exactly.”

“Well, I don’t take cards, so hit up an ATM. I got time.”

“N-no, um, not- not that, either.” Newt looks a little sheepish, and Hannibal finally gets it.

“Ah. Well. I ain’t opposed to that, if you’re up for it.”

Newt stares openly at him. “You _know_ I’m underage, right? I could’ve sworn I said that.”

“And your weed guy’s under eighteen too? Gee, somehow I doubt that.” Hannibal shrugs. He doesn’t really give a damn. “You’re not gonna go to the cops. I ain’t forcin’ you to do anything. Just making an offer.”

“...Fine. Short walk, huh? _Please_ tell me that means I don’t have to suck you off in an alley like fucking Trevor.”

“Jesus.” Hannibal shakes his head. “Hell no. We’re heading to one of my nice places. Private, cozy. _Warm_.”

“Warm,” Newt says, grinning. “I can get behind warm.”

It’s not that short a walk, actually, but they get there with minimal complaining from Newt, so Hannibal would say it’s a win. His bodyguards take his and Newt’s coats- “Hey, where the hell did they come from? Were they following us?” -and Hannibal guides him to a back room.

It’s a lounge, sort of, with big, soft chairs and a large couch. Hannibal takes a seat on the couch and spreads his legs. “So- one for an eighth?”

“An- sure! Yeah, sure sure sure. All right.” Newt drops to his knees. He unzips Hannibal’s pants, pulls out his cock, and gasps. “ _Jesus_. Holy _shit_ , you’re huge. God, this is gonna be something. Okay, I haven’t exactly done this with guys, uh, your size, but I think I can-”

He fits a very impressive length into his mouth on the first go. Newt hums, wraps a hand around the base of Hannibal’s cock, and with his other one flashes a thumbs-up at Hannibal- he looks awfully proud of himself. Hannibal chuckles and threads his fingers through the kid’s hair. Newt groans and bobs his head before pushing forward, taking more of Hannibal’s cock into his mouth. _Damn_ , the kid must get a lot of practice. Hannibal looks down at that youthful face, with the big green eyes behind those glasses, and yeah, he feels like more of a dirty old man than usual.

He tightens his grip on Newt’s hair, and Newt whines. His free hand moves from Hannibal’s knee to his own crotch, where he makes a valiant attempt at undoing his skinny jeans. He can’t seem to manage it one-handed, though, and he resorts to rubbing himself through the denim.

“Yeah? You like sucking dick that much, huh, kid?”

Newt groans again and sucks harder. He pulls back so he can lap the precome leaking from the slit. “Please,” Newt gasps. “Could, uh...you do more of that?”

Normally, Hannibal would scoff, maybe kick him in the stomach and throw him out for presuming. But- he likes the kid. He’s stupid and sharp and good at sucking cock. So fine. He’s willing to indulge. “Dirty little boy loves having a cock in his mouth,” he growls, and Newt shivers. “I bet the weed’s just a bonus. You just love sucking off guys twice, three times your age, huh? Greedy little boy.”

It doesn’t take much more from Newt to make Hannibal come. Watching him eagerly swallow every drop could get Hannibal hard all over again if he were as young as Newt. Newt stands on wobbly legs and Hannibal grins at the dark wet spot at his crotch. “Guess I don’t need to reciprocate,” he says. “Little fella already made a mess of his own.”

Newt makes a noise like a strangled, desperate squeak, and he nods. “Uh. A-anyway- my eighth?”

“Sure, sure.” Hannibal opens the door and takes the small plastic bag from the waiting guard. “Here you go, kid. Say, uh.” He claps a hand onto Newt’s shoulder. “Don’t suppose you want dinner?”


End file.
